


Whisky

by elldotsee



Series: Anniversary Ficlets 2020 [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Dialogue-Only, Drinking to Cope, Grief, John is a Bit Not Good, M/M, Reichenfeels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25132666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elldotsee/pseuds/elldotsee
Summary: Sherlock's gone and John can't always cope. A story of grief, told entirely through dialogue.
Relationships: Greg Lestrade & John Watson, Molly Hooper & John Watson, Mrs. Hudson & John Watson, Mycroft Holmes & John Watson
Series: Anniversary Ficlets 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807645
Comments: 23
Kudos: 47
Collections: 10 Years of Sherlock





	Whisky

**Author's Note:**

> This will be the only story that deals with the time that Sherlock is gone. They'll be back together again, real soon! ;)

“Y ou... you told me once... that you weren't a hero. Umm... There were times I didn't even think you were human, but let me tell you this. You were the best man, the most human... human being that I've ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so... there. I was so alone... and I owe you so much. But please, there's just one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me, don't be...dead. Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this…” 

* * *

“Where is he, Mycroft?” 

“Good morning, Doctor Watson. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Save the shit, Holmes. This is… this is all just some sort of — some wild  _ scheme _ or something, innit? Smoke’n mirrors, the great Holmes brothers at it again, fooling the world like some— some damned  _ Sigfried and Roy  _ bullshit! It’s bullshit, that’s what it is. Pure and simple. Utter fucking bullshit. Listen. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if… if I find out… if this was all some elaborate  _ plan _ of yours — because of course you’d have to be behind it, wouldn't you? You’re always,  _ ALWAYS, _ getting in the way. You’re always controlling him, and using him. So tell me, hm? Where’s he hiding? What have you done with him? Sent him off on some top secret mission?”

“Doctor Watson, I assure you, neither my brother nor I have ever been trained in illusionism. My brother is dead.”

“No. _No_. No, I can’t, I can’t… I _won’t_ _accept that, Mycroft._ That is just not possible. You better tell me where he is. Or so help you, Mycroft!” 

“Doctor Watson, you saw it happen with your own eyes. You’re a man of science, of reason. You took his pulse. Are you doubting your own competency, or did you simply storm my office looking for a brawl?” 

“I just… I can’t…” 

“Will that be all, Doctor Watson? Anthea will see you out. Good morning, John.” 

* * *

“Hullo?” 

“John! Mate. It’s really great to hear your voice. How—How ya holding up?” 

“Fine. That’s what I’m supposed to say, innit? ‘Fine, just fine. Everything is so bloody-fuckin-fine now that my best friend’s gone and offed hisself.’” 

“Er…” 

“No, it’s fine, Greg. It’s fine. It’s all fine.” 

“Want some company? I can come to yours, or we can meet somewhere. I just… You probably shouldn’t be alone. I know… I know how it can get.” 

“Yeah, probably shouldn’t. I’ll be alright though. Don’t trouble yourself.” 

“No trouble. Be by around 7. We can decide then. Maybe grab some dinner. It’ll be just like—er, that is… it’ll be great to see you.” 

“Sure, Greg. See you.” 

“Bye John.”

* * *

“Anthea.” 

“Sir?” 

“Clear my afternoon. I think I’ll pay Doctor Watson a visit.” 

“Certainly, sir. Anything else you need?”

“A bottle of the Springbank. 10 Year. I think we both will require some ‘liquid courage’, as they say. And two glasses. Lord knows I won’t be drinking out of anything in that hovel.” 

* * *

“Oh dear. Oh my. It’s alright, John. Gave me a bit of a fright, is all. Heard noises from up here and… well, it’s been a few months since you’ve been round, hasn’t it? No, no, don’t get up, you’re welcome to stay.” 

“Sorry. Yeah. Sorry, I know. It has, it has. I was just…” 

“I know, John. I miss him something awful, too. Why don’t you swap that bottle for a nice cup of tea? Think I could scrounge up some biscuits with it too.”

“Er. That’s alright. If you don’t mind, I think I’d just like to be alone up here for a while. I’ll be out of your hair by morning.”

“Sure, John. No need to hustle out in the morning on my behalf, though. I’ll be gone early, my sister’s having a procedure done— just a small thing, nothing to worry about, but I’ll be staying with her for a few days so the place is yours. Always is. You know that. This is your home, John. Oh I’m just nattering on now, aren’t I?” 

“It’s fine.”

“Can I at least bring you a glass for that, John?” 

“No, that’s not… yes alright. Thank you Mrs Hudson. You’re… you’ve been lovely.” 

* * *

“This is John Watson’s phone. I’m not answering right now, probably because I’m absolutely pissed. Leave a message, or don’t. I don’t really care.” 

“Charming message, Johnny. Call me back. I’m getting worried about you. Alright. Love you, little brother. Talk soon.” 

* * *

“John?” 

“Hullo Molly. What for can I do you...for?” 

“Oh my god, John. You look a wreck.” 

“Boy you sh—st—ssss— _ really  _ know how to make a bloke feel great, don’t ya?” 

“Christ. I’ve had corpses that smell better. Get up, John. You need a shower. New trousers. I’ll just… clean this up. Order us some takeaway. Find you some water. Do you have any tea? Nevermind, I’ll find some. Coffee might be better anyway. Go. Shoo.” 

“Molly…” 

“No. Shower. Let’s get you sobered up a bit. Then we’ll talk.”

* * *

“Thanks for coming in, Doctor Watson. I have a few things I’d like to address with you. Have a seat, I’ll just close the door.” 

“Er… Sarah?” 

“Doctor Sawyer. For the sake of professionalism here, I’m your boss, not your ex-girlfriend. We’ll use formal titles today.” 

“Uh, yeah. You are, but… what’s this about? I’ve patients to see. My lunch is nearly up.” 

“I called in a locum for the afternoon. You’ll take the day off after our meeting. The reason I called you in here is mostly to query about your own health. To be frank, I’m becoming rather worried, professionally as well as personally. You aren’t well, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious. You’re frequently late, you’ve had several complaints from patients of your abrasive and dismissive communication, and a suspicion of drinking on the job. Now. I know you’ve had a rough patch, what with losing your friend. I’d like to help. I’m giving you some time to get yourself sorted out. I’d be happy to offer you some references, if necessary. And, pending a trial basis, you can have your job back when you’re ready.”

“...huh. Ok. Yeah. Ok. Thanks, Sarah. Sorry. Doctor Sawyer. Yeah. Things have been pretty rough. I’m not really… I’m not really myself. I can’t quite seem to… it’s all just a lot and I’m not really sure what to do. But I’ll uh… I’ll get myself sorted. Thanks.” 

“Of course, John. I’ve compiled a list for you, a few people I know personally that I think could help. Grief counseling, that sort of thing. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” 

“Yeah. Thanks again.” 

* * *

“Fish and chips? Those are three words I never thought I’d hear come out of the mouth of the great Mycroft Holmes. Not all smushed together in one sentence, at least. Come off it. What’s the catch?” 

“Har har. Excellent pun, Doctor Watson, though I can’t be sure if it was even intentional. There is no catch. It’s been some time and I thought it might be nice to have a social visit. That’s all. And there’s the matter of… the date.” 

“The date…? Oh. Right. It’s the fifth already today, isn’t it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Fish and chips, it is then. Do you have a favourite chips shop? Maybe a governmental secret?” 

“Unfortunately not. I think I’ll have to bow to your expertise in this case.”

“I know just the place.” 

“Wonderful. See you tomorrow, Doctor Watson.” 

“Call me John.” 

“John it is. Good day.” 

* * *

“To Sherlock. Happy Birthday.”

“To Sherlock. Many happy returns, brother mine.”

“Oh. This is excellent. Splurging on the good stuff, eh? I’m honoured.” 

“I thought the occasion warranted something special, yes. This is the 21 year Glendronach Parliament. Smooth, roasty and nuanced, with hints of tobacco, vanilla, brown sugar, molasses… reminds me of birthday cakes we had. Thought it seemed appropriate.” 

“You had a really bizarre childhood, didn’t you, Mycroft?” 

“You have no idea, John.” 

* * *

“Hey. It’s me. It’s been awhile. Things got… well a bit not good for a while there, but I… I think it’s getting better now. Sarah gave me another chance at the surgery. Molly’s been great, and Mrs Hudson. Greg checks in on me. Even Harry. Saw her last week. Still no Clara, think that ship has sailed. I miss you. Every day. But it’s, it’s a bit easier now to breathe. Easier to get through the day, to do normal things. Not… not  _ easy _ . Just not… not awful. Tolerable. 

I grew a beard. Can’t tell yet if I like it. You’d probably hate it. Always did like me clean shaven. Yeah, I did notice. 

_ Ahem _ . Anyway. Someone’s been by to clean off your stone. Looks nice. Got all the dead flowers and grass cleared away, in time for winter. Sort of dark and dramatic now. Just in time for Halloween. 

Fuck, I miss you. I miss  _ us. _

Guess that’s all. Not much to report. I’ll be by more often now I think. It’s good for me to get out a bit. Haven’t been doing much else than working. Drinking. Not so much as before but it… it takes the edge off. Hurts less, ya know? Makes me forget about it all for a while. 

Yeah. Alright. That’s… that’s it then.  _ Huhm _ . Scuse me. Bye, Sherlock.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to arianedevere for the transcripts and J_Baillier for lending her whisky (and mycroftian) knowledge to me ;)


End file.
